


FAQ

by Hereisthere_gg



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Angst, Character Analysis???, F/M, i was just inspired, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-27
Updated: 2016-12-27
Packaged: 2018-09-12 14:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9075400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hereisthere_gg/pseuds/Hereisthere_gg
Summary: "What you will be when you grow up is a mystery to everyone until is isn't and you cannot help but give up on the future of your life and any future event in it. There is nothing left for you. Your life, after now, is for everyone else. And there is nothing you can do to change that.""Unless you quit, I guess. But that's hard.""Who cares.""You do. You're scared."





	

 

_Question 1. What will you be when you grow up?_

 

With a bright smile, "A superhero!"

 

_Question one. What will you be when you grow up?_

 

With an uneasy smile, "A teacher?"

 

_Question uno. What will you be when you grow up?_

 

With a firm smile, "A model."

 

_Question eins. What will you be when you grow up?_

 

With an uneasy smile, "A model."

 

_Question un. Que serez-vous quand vous grandir?_

 

* * *

 

He doesn't know what to do.

 

With the sun setting, casting soft oranges and reds into his bedroom, Adrien Agreste-formerly also Chat Noir-has no idea what to do.

 

He does not want the life laid out before him.

 

(Anyone would call him _crazy_ for not wanting all of the riches set out before him at the "small" price of modeling continually more provocative things that he hates more and more, but he digresses.)

 

The life laid before him is not something that he wants.

 

He used to be okay with it. He thought that he would always have Chat Noir to be and Ladybug at his side, regardless of Hawkmoth's defeat.

 

But he was hopelessly wrong.

 

The sunset casts him in a orange color accentuated by reds. 

 

He does not want this.

 

What will he do about it?

 

* * *

 

A high place is a very dangerous place to be if you aren't a superhero. Which he isn't, anymore.

 

The nighttime chilling winds are gentle, not enough to push him anywhere. He is grateful for that, because if he does decide to live, despite the uselessness of his future, he doesn't want his death to be an accident (Which it possibly could end up being anyway.).

 

The ground is very far down. If he fell on his head, would he break his skull and neck, effectively killing him? He didn't know how to measure that, despite years in the superhero business.

 

He is so tired from nights of no sleep. His eyelids fight to stay open as he sits, body to tired to stand.

 

How does hopelessness physically affect the human body? He does not know.

 

* * *

 

He's been up here way too long.

 

The moon is incredibly closer to the western part of the sky than it was when he fell asleep. It's maybe one in the morning, maybe two, judging by the distant glow of orange in the east.

 

With a tired sigh, he figures that he should start getting to where he was supposed to be.

 

* * *

 

In the soft, soft sunlight of the classroom, the droning of the teacher, and the apparent perfect temperature of the room, Adrien fell asleep. He didn't particularly sleep well the night before, and his body was desperately trying to make up for it.

 

It felt like only two minutes later, when actually a whole class period later, Ms. Bustier was prodding him.

 

The classroom was empty.

 

"I expect more from you, Adrien." She said, demeanor professional but disappointed. "I must ask, what has been going on with you the past few months? It is very unlike you."

 

He shrugs the sleep off of his shoulders. "Just haven't been sleeping well," He half-lies. 

 

"For three straight months?" She furrows her eyebrows. "I'm sorry to say that I don't quite believe you."

 

Adrien feels an iron stab of frustration, _leave me alone, you don't know, it's none of your business-_

 

He seals his lips. "I'm fine," he insists, and grabs his bag and pushed by her, out of the classroom.

 

He regrets it not ten minutes later.

 

* * *

 

_What will he do about it?_

 

The question plagues him all day. He has to find the answer.

 

He cannot run. Without Chat Noir, they can find Adrien easily. Bring him back to his father. He doesn't know what he'd do then.

 

Convincing his father for another fate may push him into faux considering. At least he'll have the ray of light called hope, for at least a little bit. But it will accomplish nothing in the end.

 

He's trying really hard to find an answer that isn't the obvious one.

 

* * *

 

When Ms. Bustier asks them to give detailed reports on what they're interested in being when they grow up, he is not ready.

 

He's nodding off again, eyelids drooping, his sight swimming in darkness when his back is pat and a paper is slid in front of him.

 

At the top of the paper, What will you be when you grow up? Provide a detailed answer.

 

He grips the pen a little tightly. A model, he thinks. A puppet for his father and everyone else, only what everyone else wants, never what he wants, _his life is not for him_

 

Nino pats his back. "You okay, dude?"

 

It takes Adrien a second to process what his best friend said. "Huh? Uh, yeah, I'm okay."

 

"You were glaring at that paper like it committed the ultimate injustice."

 

"How dare you make my solve your problems?" Adrien joked smoothly. "I have much more important things to do."

 

He manages to discreetly laugh with Nino long enough to not get the question done at the end of class period.

 

Ms. Bustier gives him a sad questioning look, but he pretends not to notice.

 

* * *

 

"Adrien, I've received an email from your teacher." His father asked through the screen from hundreds of miles away. "And I must ask why."

 

Adrien can't really bring himself to care enough. He is so tired, of everything. His father's very voice exhausts him to no end. "Why do you care?" He fiddled with an eraser shaving on the table.

 

"Because I am your father."

 

"Could've fooled me," He muttered. He rolled it up, around.

 

"What was that?"

 

Adrien sighed. "Nothing." He dropped the parent eraser and rubbed it along the table, because he was bored.

 

"I think those delinquents at school are messing with you."

 

"I think not. I'm just tired." I'm so tired of you. He rubbed the eraser with more force, then felt it for the smoothness and heat from the activity. Nice.

 

"Certainly not tired enough to talk back to me? Stop messing with that."

 

"Less effort than keeping quiet."

 

"I am done with you, Adrien. Maybe the next time we speak you will have pulled yourself together."

 

"Mhm. Later."

 

They don't talk again for three months.

 

* * *

 

If somebody told him back when he was fourteen and just beginning public school that he was on the brink of suicide, he wouldn't be surprised.

 

This isn't new. This is something that has been plaguing him since his mother died. When his father pushed him harder and harder into modeling and modeling him into the perfect son. He was so tired of it from the very beginning.

 

It slightly troubles him that this is the norm.

 

And without Plagg, there is no one who truly understands.

 

* * *

 

He doesn't even bother to read the schedule that is given to him. He knows it. He's unconsciously memorized it. Nothing changes.

 

The pure monotony drives him crazy.

 

* * *

 

The first person who asks what is wrong with him is Nino.

 

Of course he is.

 

"Dude, are you okay?" He asks. "I didn't want to pry into your personal biz too much but you've been acting weird for a while. Is something up?"

 

He turns away. "It's nothing, Nino."

 

"Is your old man bothering you?"

 

Adrien inhales sharply. "I gotta go, Nino." He says. "Photo shoot." And as if summoned, his car drives up. "See you."

 

"Y-yeah," Nino says, confused. "See you, buddy."

 

* * *

 

Marinette is the second. The usually stuttering mess of a girl (Around him, at least.) walks up to him without a trace of shyness, only slight concern.

 

"Adrien?" She asks. "Something's...something's been off about you for the past few months." She smiles comfortingly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

 

Normally he'd say no as politely as possible (Maybe that's not what would actually happen though, considering his rude streak lately.) and weasel himself away. But Marinette looks so concerned, it's familiar.

 

It reminds him of his mother.

 

He swallows. "Nothing's," He curses himself and tries again. "Nothing's wrong."

 

"Really?" Marinette isn't convinced.

 

"Yeah, just..." He looks away from the eyes that look nothing and too much like his mother's. "Not sleeping well."

 

"For over five months straight?" Now she breifly reminded him of Ms. Bustier. Gentle, but firm when needed. And his mother is still there, too present for any kind of comfort.

 

"Ye-yeah." He says. "I," he flicks his eyes somewhere else. "I gotta go..."

 

"Where?" She asks. _It's like she knows he has nowhere else to be._

 

"To a photo shoot," he lies.

 

"But you usually don't have one around now," she persists. _Shit, she really does know._

 

"My dad," His entire consciousness winces. "My dad scheduled another one for about now."

 

"Really?" She asks.

 

He swallows again. Her eyes are too warm and full of everything good in the world and he can't take it. 

 

"Yeah," he says, feeling like the scum of the earth. "See you."

 

* * *

 

He misses Ladybug.

 

She was perfect, everything about her. She still is somewhere, and he wished that she at least revealed who she was to him. But in the aftermath of the final battle, they both forgot.

 

Now he will never find his true love, so he can knock that off of his list of hopes.

 

But Marinette is the closest person he knows to her, and he makes it a goal to get as close to her as possible.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes it's too much.

 

The stress of it all, photo shoot after photo shoot, (So many he had to take off school that day.) lesson after lesson, and multiple meetings with his father can break someone. Namely him.

 

He locks himself in his room. He sits in his bed, in the corner where the walls meet. He hugs his knees. And he rocks.

 

Just trying to get things in a straight line without really thinking about it.

 

* * *

 

It strikes him later that he is slowly distancing himself.

 

From his friends. (His best friend.) school. Even his own day to day activities. 

 

(He finds entire blank spaces in his mind where memories of what just happened should be.)

 

His father is starting to schedule more and more photo shoots, which he doesn't even have to be mentally present for anymore, and he is slowly fading away in the madness of it all.

 

_Wrong. **Correct it.**_

 

_Question un. Que serez-vous quand vous grandir?_

 

_With a smile, **Whoever my father wants me to be.**_

**Author's Note:**

> #nohappyendingforyou
> 
> eyy for once suicide isnt an option
> 
> but isnt that kinda worse????????? right now from his standpoint it looks like it is
> 
> I wanted it to end happy too!! But?! As I was writing it!?!!? I realized that there is really no answer to the question!!!! Except this!!!!! Sadly.


End file.
